The Lonely Drop (6 page)

I’m waiting for my hard-on to subside enough that I can pee, when he calls out, “Do you drink coffee? There’s a pot here, but I didn’t want to make it just for me.”

“I’ll drink a cup,” I call back. Then, to my humiliation, he comes into the bathroom to get water. He glances over to where I stand, red-faced with embarrassment, and gives me a little leer.

“Heh, waking up next to you did the same thing to me.” He winks, then takes his coffee pot out of the bathroom.

****

I drag my hungover ass in to work in time to open the restaurant for the lunchtime kitchen and serving staff, but immediately go hide out in my office. I can’t believe I went out dancing and got drunk enough to black out. I haven’t done that since… well, since college. And then this
morning.
Watching Kevin in the shower… What the hell is wrong with me?

At just after noon, the door to my office slams open and Jenny stands in the doorway, glaring at me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

I blink up at her, wincing. Is she always this loud?

“Britney tells me you haven’t come out of your office since you unlocked the door this morning. I come in three hours early to do the bar purchasing and you have Corey handling the bar alone during the lunch rush. He was so deep in the weeds I thought he was going to cry. Corey. The jock. Cry.”

“Men cry too, sweetheart,” I tell her.

“And there’s one sitting in front of me who’s going to be crying real soon if he doesn’t tell his favorite employee what the hell is going on.”

“Are you always this loud?”

“Are you
hungover?”
Scandalized, she scoots inside the office and shuts the door behind her.

I nod.

“You.
You
are hungover. Wow. And you’re normally so uptight.” She sits down. “What happened?”

“I went dancing. With Kevin. And I did shots. Lots of shots.”

“Did you fuck him?”

“Jenny!” I glare at her.

“Did he fuck you?”

“Not better.”

“Did you, or did you not, have sexual intercourse with that man?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I did
not.
I did wake up in his hotel room though. And…” No, not telling her about the shower. “And I wish we had. Not drunk, because I’d never forgive myself if the only time I ever got to be with him was because I was drunk. I just wish things were different.”

“Oh, baby. How long has it been?” See, this is why I love Jenny. She reads between the lines.

“Ten years— well, probably more like twelve if I’m being honest.”

“You haven’t had sex in twelve years?” Her jaw drops.

“No! I’ve had sex, Jesus, Jenny. I’ve been in love with him for twelve years.” So much for that reading between the lines shit.

“Oh.” Her eyes get really wide. “Does he know?”

“No, and it’s going to stay that way. I have my friend back. Even if it’s temporary, with him living in New York and me living here, we’re hanging out like old times and it’s good. I can’t ruin that.”

“But what if he feels the same way?”

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know? Has he told you he just wants to be friends? Is he seeing someone else? Is he married?”

“No, not that I know of, and hell no.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity?”

She scoffs. “There’s no dignity in love, Nick. It’s messy and embarrassing and
fantastic,
but it sure as hell isn’t dignified. What do you have to
lose?”

“My friend.”

“You have other friends. And honestly, you guys can’t be that close if one little love declaration ruins everything.”

“One little love declaration?”

“Well, I don’t exactly have you pegged as the ‘taking out a billboard in Times Square type.’”

“And anything less than that is ‘little’? There’s no middle ground?”

“I’m not talking literally. Damn, Nick, you really are hung over. It’s a metaphor. The big gesture. I don’t see you as a big gesture guy. You’re the kind of guy who loves quietly. And those guys? They either nut up or die alone.” She crosses her arms over her chest at the end of her speech, clearly pleased with herself.

“Thank you for my daily dose of melodrama.”

“Yeah, whatever. Got the liquor inventory?”

I hand her the printout.

“Nut up or die alone, Nick. I’m just saying.” She stands up and walks out of my office. She returns a few minutes later with a bottle of ibuprofen. “Courtesy of Britney. Now, go help Corey before the boy has an aneurysm.”

“I don’t think aneurysms are caused by tending bar alone for thirty minutes,” I call after her as she disappears down the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah. Help the guy out. By the way, it’s snowing pretty hard already. You might want to consider closing early tonight.”

I look out the window, wincing at the brightness. Sure enough, snow is flying. I pull up the weather app on my phone and see they’re only calling for a couple of inches. We should be fine to stay open.

****

By two o’clock, the restaurant is deserted and nearby businesses are closing. The TV above the bar is tuned to CNN showing massive shutdowns of roads in Atlanta, which is a few hours south of here. It looks like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie.

“We need to close.” Jenny comes up beside me and gestures at the TV. “I checked in with Miriam and she said the kids are building a snowman, and to take as long as I need here. I can help you close up.”

“I hate the idea of closing for an inch of snow.”

“Nick, you have four wheel drive. Most of your staff doesn’t. Corey’s car is rear wheel drive and he lives up on Sunset. You think he’s going to make it up those hills if it’s icy? And Britney needs to get to campus— she can walk if she needs to, but would
you
walk down Merrimon in a snowstorm?”

She’s right. I send the staff home, and I flip the sign on the door.

That’s when I get the text from Kevin.

Going to try to get a flight out before everything shuts down. Raincheck on the brewery tour?

It hits me— a wave of physical pain. I’d expected a few more days with him. My waning hangover seems to roar back to life for a moment.

“Shit.” I dig the heel of my hand into the throbbing between my eyes.

“Nick?” Jenny looks up from where she’s wiping down the bar.

“He’s going home to New York.”

“Ah.” She puts the rag down. “Well, he’ll be back.”

“No, I don’t think he will. He’ll have finished up his interviews. Why would he come back?”

She sighs. “Sorry, Nick. At least you can stop pining over him though.”

“Yeah.” I look down at the phone and send one last text.

Travel safe, buddy.

An hour later, the bar is closed and clean and I head home. My phone rings as I’m pulling into my driveway. I half expect it to be one of my employees, stuck and needing a ride, but the caller ID says
Kevin.

“Kev?”

“Hey, Nick. Bad news, good news, and more bad news. Bad news: looks like I was too late. They cancelled my new flight. Good news, they scheduled me back to my old one.”

I’m not gonna lie. I feel a little thrill at this news. “What’s the other bad news?”

“Can’t get a new hotel room. The Haywood already rebooked my room and everywhere I’ve called has told me they’re booked. I hate to ask—”

“Stay with me.” The words are out before I can stop them. “I’ll come get you at the airport.”

“Are you sure, Nick?”

“Of course. I’m not going to leave you stranded. I’ll call you when I get close.”

****

Chapter Five

He’s waiting just inside the doors when I pull up in front of the airport. He practically runs to my car, tosses his suitcase in the backseat, and lets himself in the passenger side before I can even turn on my hazards.

“Well, hey.” I grin at him as I pull out of the pick-up lane.

“Hi. Thank you. Oh my God, thank you, Nick. I hate spending the night in an airport. If you weren’t driving, I’d kiss you.”

His words stir a sweet little flutter in my belly, but I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Shut up. It’s a big deal to me. Thank you, for real.”

I glance over at him, and he’s smiling, a great big grin of appreciation and warmth. I can’t help but smile back. “You’re welcome.”

The house is dark when we pull up— disconcerting, seeing as how I always leave the porch light on when I’m not home.

“Shit,” I mutter. “I think I’ve lost power.”

“Do you have a generator? I’ll help you hook it up.” He gathers his suitcase and follows me inside.

“No generator. I should, just to keep the fridge running, but most of the time… well, most of the time I don’t need stuff like that. I don’t lose power often enough to make it a priority.”

“I hereby volunteer to help you eat the perishables and drink the beer,” he says as he follows me upstairs.

I point to the guest bedroom. “You can put your suitcase in there. Ugh, I am
so
not in the mood to drink beer.” I scowl at him. “I’m still feeling last night a little bit.”

“Sorry, bro.” He leers a little bit. “But you sure looked hot, losing all your inhibitions like that.”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“What?”

“Tell me I’m hot. Stuff like that.”

“Oh, here we go again.” He rolls his eyes. “It was just dancing. Your virtue is safe.”

“It’s not about virtue. It’s…” My face flushes hot. “I watched you in the shower this morning.” Shit. Why did I confess that?

“You watched me— oh.” I see it, the moment it registers what I did. He turns a little red, but then tries to shrug it off. The emotions on his face flit between anger and amusement, but never embarrassment. Not like he has anything to be embarrassed about.
I’m
the one who crossed a line.

His voice is quiet. “I know I flirt inappropriately, but that was private.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I feel horrible. I’ll let you get settled in here. I’m so sorry.”

“Apology accepted. But, hey—” He reaches for my arm before I can escape. “Just talk to me for a minute, because I don’t understand, Nick. So you saw me jerking off. So what? I just don’t get it. You’re so uptight about sex, but your mom was a hippie. Free love and all that jazz. I respect your choices but help me understand them.”

“The only thing free love ever got me was an absentee father.”

Oh. Shit. I never meant to say that out loud.

“You know you can’t get pregnant, right?” He smiles a little, but it’s not funny to me. It shaped everything.

“For me, sex has to mean something. It has to be more than… what you said about bodies rubbing together. Because that’s temporary, and I need more. Can’t you understand why I need something— someone— to last?”

“Do you think, if it were you and me, it would be just bodies? Do you really think that, Nick?”

I want to do something to erase the hurt on his face. I look down to where his hand rests on my arm, and I shrug it away. “It wouldn’t be, not for me.” I start to leave, and his hand closes on my arm again, this time jerking back roughly.

“It wouldn’t be for me, either. You’re one of the best friends I ever had. I think we would be amazing together. I wish you’d let me prove it. One night, just give me one night to sho—”

“One night.” Of course. Here I’m thinking it’s possibly
more,
but he’s talking about a one-night stand. A get-it-out-of-our-system fuck. “I can’t…”

“You can’t give me one night?” He pulls me close, so we’re standing face to face, and he leans close enough to feather a kiss across my cheek.

I can’t give you
only
one, without wanting to give you
every
one.

I don’t say it, because then it would be out there between us. It would mean everything, and I’d lose this last chance to be with him. Instead, I close my eyes and tilt my head, pulling him into a kiss.

He stills against me, his hand still gripping my forearm. It tightens briefly, then he lets go and his hands are on my face and he’s returning the kiss. It’s hungry, urgent, and our whole bodies get into it. He drops one hand to my waist and tugs me hard against him. I grind my hardening dick into his and fist my hand in his hair. His answering groan comes with a nip of his teeth in my lower lip.

My chest heaves in excitement and anticipation as I push him toward the bed. A creaky old thing, not as comfortable as the king-sized one in my bedroom, but I don’t care, I want him, here, now, before I change my mind.

His hands tangle in my shirt as he pulls it over my head, and I hear fabric ripping. He curses under his breath, but I kiss the word away and attack his buttons.

“God, I hate business attire,” he mutters, trying with trembling hands to help me.
Trembling.

“Shhh.” I push his hands back, a wave of tenderness sweeping over me. I lift one to my lips and kiss it. “Let me undress you.”

All that urgency turns to sweetness as his hands fall away and he takes a deep breath. I slip each button free, kissing down his chest, through his undershirt, as I make my way lower and lower. When the last one is loose and his shirt falls open, I skim it from his shoulders and let it fall. I peel his undershirt up his body, drinking in the sight of him.

I toss the shirt aside and run my hands up and down his chest, taking everything in by the low light coming in the window. Lean, but no longer athlete-taut. Still beautiful. He’s not the same lithe young man I fell for on the soccer team. His chest is a little broader, his belly a little thicker. His ass is rounder, and hallelujah, it feels great in my hands when I knead it and pull him close again for another kiss.

Our kiss is slow this time, soft and exploring. A nudge here, a teasing foray of tongue there, and then his hands kneading my ass right back.

I pull away from the heaven of his mouth and kiss my way from his chin down his throat, loving the prickle of his stubble against my lips. When I reach his clavicles, I suck gently, bringing a warm red spot to the surface. I brush my finger over it, and then look into his face. Wonder, softness, and oh, the
heat
I see there. The same heat warms my limbs and lifts my cock.